Trout Dreaming

Once again when you head out into the Australian bush you can expect one of these things to be immanent…
1. You are about to tread on a highly poisons animal or be bitten/stung by one…
2. You are stuck in an inhospitable landscape with no access to the outside world…
3. You are being pestered by thousands of bush flys!

OK, so yes there were flys, and yes we were in a remote part of the world … but it is a very beautiful part of the world, and one where you can happily forget about the rest of the world.

First job was to set up camp which was done with little to no real crises (The clever crow/raven stole a loaf of bread but hey if you don’t watch’m most animals smart enough to know humans know there is always food to be had around them).

A beer and some nibblies to regain ones strength and it was time to see what damage had been done by repeat seasons of long dry spells on the clear waters of Cave creek.
Cave creek is a stream feed by an artesian spring (the snow melts and slowly travels through the limestone of Kosciusko national park and finally, after about 2 years, is released into this stream).
Now, I’ve been at blue waterholes in high flow periods, when the water rushes down from the surrounding hills and plains and makes the stream look like a roaring river… but most of the time it is a sparkling creek clearer than glass which ambles along at a leisurely pace. This is great and healthy for the fish but very hard for the fisherman who is trying to out wit the twice shy trout. Well the water level was a good half to full meter below where it would normally be. This has been the way for the past few years but each time I return I’m sure it’s falling lower…

This has changed the places that the fish like to settle… but the numbers of fish remain high (as you can see them scatter as your shadow crosses the water) and you could not say that it isn’t a healthy stream with plenty of healthy ponds, weed banks and bubbling runs.

Having explored the steam, caught one or two mid to small trout (confirming ones ability and the capability of the stream) I returned to the camp… sure enough it was dark by this time…

Catching up with Matt explaining to Mike the jist of fly-fishing.
We all returned to the camp site for tea.

Dinner turned out to be half frozen Lasagne and burnt garlic bread (What did they expect leaving me to cook)… 2 kg of prawns, cheese, olives and dips for entries, Dinner really was superfluous with red wine, beers and scotch being consumed.

Day one over and already the fish had performed a treat!